Venting
by HomiSidle
Summary: Throughout their six years at Hogwarts, Hermione's always been the brains of the operation... but the strain's getting to her, and she seeks relief in the most unlikely place... LM/HG *new chapter!*
1. After Class

Title: Venting  
Author: HomiSidle  
Disclaimers: Um, yes, I own Lucius Malfoy. No wait, I just wish I did. This pairing is wrong in so many ways, I don't know where to begin, but I like it all the same ^_^. Oh yes. That is all! Read n' review, please, it's my first HP fic. Thankie! Oh PS I don't know what colour Lucius' eyes are so I'm making them green. It's probably wrong but let's call it artistic licence. lol.  
  
***  
  
Hermione was always the first to class. The earliest arrival and the last to leave, and she prided herself on that fact. She never missed a lesson, not a moment of magical education was wasted on her. Hermione was brilliant, eager and studious. She was also terribly repressed.  
  
It didn't help, being best friends with Harry Potter. He was the brave one, the one who always got into trouble but ended up saving the day, while everyone simply expected Hermione to be there to work out the puzzles, to solve the problems he and Ron couldn't. She was the brain, Harry was the brawn and Weasley was the comic relief. It had always been that way. Hermione rarely raised her wand.  
  
So it ended up that there was an undiscovered fire coursing through her veins. Hermione Granger had so much unused energy, anger and passion that she was slowly driving herself mad. She ate and breathed her studies in an attempt to subdue the building power inside her, but she knew it wasn't working, and it was starting to show. She'd yelled at Ron viciously in the hallway one day and hadn't yet apologized, snapped at Professor McGonagall in front of the entire class and wasn't boasting about her phenomenal OWL results.  
  
It was their sixth year at Hogwarts, and though it had only begun weeks ago she was already becoming exceedingly frazzled and temperamental. It hadn't helped any that their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was none other than Lucius Malfoy. It seemed it hadn't been a problem using his resources to help him out of the spot of trouble he was in with the Ministry of Magic, and he had even pulled several strings to be able to teach at Hogwarts. He wasn't qualified, he wasn't fair and he wasn't exactly helping Harry and Ron's GPA. He was one of the most horrible teachers Hermione had ever had.  
  
So why was she the first in his class every morning?  
  
Students were beginning to file in around her; she could see Harry and Ron entering from behind. At the front of the class, Professor Malfoy (it made Hermione shudder for some reason, addressing him like a teacher) stood surveying the students as if looking down on an anthill or some particularly vile piece of litter. He was a stupid git. Somehow, though, Hermione's intense hatred towards him allowed her to vent some of her pent- up anger. Lucius was a release. He was... therapeutic.  
  
"Be seated, be seated," he said arrogantly, and Hermione could already feel a searing repulsion towards him. It felt incredible.  
  
"Today, class, we will be reading from our textbooks, as we seem to have fallen behind... especially our dear Gryffindors," he continued, and Hermione's blood was boiling so hot she barely noticed when Lucius made a very pointed look in her direction.  
  
She knew she was being irrational. She'd been in class maybe five minutes and she was already feeling aggravated and, well, bitchy. Something about Professor Malfoy brought out the worst in her. The most irritating part was that she liked it.  
  
"Professor Malfoy," Hermione said before she could catch herself, "I was under the impression that, for the most part, Gryffindor was ahead of Slytherin in nearly every class."  
  
Lucius snapped around to face her again, looking down at her as he always did, "Clearly you've been falling behind in your maths, Miss Granger, and I'd rather you not speak about what you don't understand in future."  
  
He was taken aback, though, by Hermione's unwavering sneer. He'd expected her to look away, avoid his gaze, but there she was, staring into his green eyes with a fiery intensity. It was a moment before he realized that the entire class was staring at the two of them, and he pulled away and began to drawl about some hex he knew little about. For about twenty minutes, nothing much happened; he finished his monotonous speech and returned to his desk to watch the clock tick silently. He had no interest in teaching children how to defend themselves. He'd bought his way into the position to keep watch over Harry Potter, as he felt it was his duty to the Dark Lord. It was all just so boring.  
  
As he milled over papers and files, he happened to glance back at Hermione, whose nose was buried deeply in her work. She looked distracted, though, and kept glancing in different directions as if trying to steady herself and concentrate. He was still shocked by her display in class. The mudblood had a backbone, he was quickly realizing. He wondered if her clueless friends had even realized the witch she was becoming.  
  
Hermione felt a burning sensation on her forehead - someone was watching her. Not wanting to look up entirely and distract the others around her, her eyes glanced up slowly towards the front of the class. Professor Malfoy was glaring directly at her, his emerald eyes gleaming in the candlelit classroom. Hermione bent her head up just slightly so her eyes met his. He had a look of confused interest on his face. What was going on? When she looked at him she felt an overpowering surge of energy, anger, passion... Lucius Malfoy embodied all that she hated. Looking at him she didn't feel like a mousey brainiac, she felt like a fiery witch, powerful and menacing. He looked at her differently than her friends did, not with acceptance and tolerance, but with awe and fervour. He saw the anger in her. He made her feel alive.  
  
"Psst, Hermione," Ron said, waking her from her trance, oblivious to the staring contest between her and her professor, "can you explain this bit about counter-hexes? I'm lost."  
  
Reluctantly, she pulled away from his gaze and turned to Ron to explain the wordy paragraph. She couldn't think straight, though. This had been going on since the start of the school year, this standoff between her and Malfoy. She didn't understand it, and that frightened her, because Hermione normally understood everything right off. This was different.  
  
Before she knew it, class had ended. The bushy-haired brunette put away her books and collected her quills, putting them haphazardly into her schoolbag. Ron and Harry had gotten ahead of her, as they'd taken nearly to running from Malfoy's classes. She knew his presence was affecting them negatively, but she'd been taking this nonsense from her friends for five years now, going on six. They became so emotional and overexcited about every little thing. She'd been like that too, once, but now she was starting to realize that she was maturing much faster than her male counterparts. Hermione was sixteen. Harry and Ron acted like they were still in second year, and had become paranoid about dark forces since Voldemort's return. She knew she probably should be, too, but her brain was already straining to sustain itself. The Dark Lord was nothing compared to studies, boys and puberty.  
  
She was awakened from her jumbled thoughts once again by an ominous presence behind her. Hermione picked up her bag and turned around to find Professor Malfoy staring her down. She promptly realized that the classroom was empty - she'd been so lost in her thoughts she'd forgotten to change classes. Now she'd have to run to Arithmancy. She needed to get away from Lucius, but before she could stop herself, she was gazing into his eyes and was rooted to the spot by the power emanating from them. He was much taller than her, but their strength was equal. His long, gorgeous, shiny - *no, greasy and bleached,* Hermione reminded herself - hair was hanging about his face in a way that made her stomach knot. He was deliciously handsome.  
  
*Still, Hermione, he's a stupid git. You can't think he's attractive. Don't get me started on why.*  
  
"What is it, Professor," Hermione managed to choke out, not breaking her glare.  
  
"Why is it, Miss Granger, that you've been staring at me all through class for the past week and a half?" He asked, leaning closer to her, which surprisingly didn't make her as uncomfortable as it should have.  
  
"I haven't," she replied, trying to maintain her voice.  
  
Without looking away, Lucius began to walk around her, his body radiating heat that Hermione refused to acknowledge. Soon he was standing behind her, and she could feel his hot breath seep through her thick hair to her neck. She almost closed her eyes to welcome the feeling, but caught herself and swallowed hard.  
  
"Your cheeky little friends haven't noticed your recent change in personality, have they?" He questioned, pausing for a moment, "I can see fire in your eyes. You've been taking out your anger on everyone around you, but you seem to be focusing it on me. Why is that? What makes me... special?"  
  
The sneer in his voice almost masked his curiosity. There was so much emotion flowing between them it was becoming hard for Hermione to speak. She loathed him. She hated him.  
  
"I hate everything you are," she replied sharply, whirling around to stare him in the face again, "And when I look at you I feel all the hatred inside me rush to the surface. I'd try to explain it but you don't deserve an explanation. I despise you."  
  
"Such kind words," Lucius replied haughtily, as he always did, "I'll have you know I have no kind feelings towards you either, Miss Granger, but I'm intrigued by this passion radiating from you at all angles. You need to let it out or it will consume you."  
  
"How," Hermione dared him, jutting her face towards his angrily, so close she could taste his breath. The heat between them could have melted steel. She was staring so hard into his eyes, and he was staring so hard in return, that they were both starting to feel dizzy. Before she even knew what was happening, Lucius brushed his lips across hers.  
  
Hermione was stunned. He pulled only an inch away from her lips, and she knew her confusion was very obvious. Had Lucius Malfoy just kissed her?  
  
"What?" It was all she could spit out, despite the billion thoughts in her mind.  
  
"Vent your anger, Hermione," he replied, his eyes menacing. Their lips had only met for an instant, but the static between them was incredible.  
  
"You're my professor, you're a death eater, I hate you," she said, though she didn't look away or make any attempt to move from the spot she was in.  
  
"You're my student, you're a mudblood, and I hate you as well," he pressed on, not blinking for an instant. An unruly strand of white-blonde hair fell across his face, but he didn't move it away, "I'm trying to help you, believe it or don't."  
  
Somewhere, deep inside her, something told her she did believe him. He was the only person in the entire world right now who seemed to understand her completely. She was angry. She was passionate. He was there.  
  
So she kissed him.  
  
Her swollen lips moved towards and pressed against his, and he was quick to respond. Lucius' lustful kiss was everything Hermione needed. She could fight against it, and she could win or lose. Soon her mouth opened to give access to his tongue, and they wrestled with each other's lips for what felt like an eternity. His hands found her back and he pulled her closer to him, if it was even possible, and Hermione's hands became tangled in his incredibly soft hair. Their kiss was unbelievable not because it was sweet, loving and gentle, but because it was rough, passionate and full of anger. She could feel the numbing tension in her shoulders relax as she pressed her body to his. It was perfect.  
  
After a fierce few minutes, they pulled away from each other at precisely the same instant. It took a moment for Hermione's eyes to open, but when they did, she found Lucius Malfoy staring straight into them. His hair was dishevelled, but he wore a triumphant look on his face. She blinked, and smiled mischievously at him.  
  
"It would seem you're good for something," Hermione said evilly.  
  
"And you, Miss Granger," he replied, and she grinned wickedly as she caught him licking his lips. He'd enjoyed it as much as she had. No, she hadn't enjoyed that. Damnit.  
  
"I'm going to be late for Arithmancy," she stated plainly, and grabbed the bag that had fallen to the floor.  
  
"I have a class as well," Lucius retorted and stepped away from her.  
  
As he walked to the front of the class and she strolled briskly to the door, Hermione paused for a moment, knowing that very soon all that had just happened would occur to her. What had he done to her? How could he be so disgusting? Why was that the most incredible kiss of her life, why had it made her feel like she was flying on wings of fire? How dare Lucius Malfoy be the answer to all her problems?  
  
"I hate you," Hermione said quietly, not for the first time that day, and left the room.  
  
Even at the back of the class, he didn't have to guess what she'd said.  
  
"I know," he said softly to himself, running a finger over his bottom lip and grinning ear to ear as Hermione Granger headed to her next class.  
  
This teaching gig wasn't so bad, after all.  
  
***  
  
That's all for today, mermen and women, but if you like, there could be a part II. I'll see what my reviews say. ^-^ Later! 


	2. Detention

* A small warning! This chapter is much more... shall we say... adult than the first. Of course, I'm not an adult writing this, so read at your own discretion. Thank ya! *  
  
Gazing at the stone ceiling, etched and worn by time and magic, Hermione believed this might just have been the longest night she'd ever endured in the enormous castle.  
  
The day had rolled by so slowly that she felt as if she had been drowning in her own exhaustion. Her breath had a difficult time escaping from her throat, as she feared that if it left her, it would not return. She'd been so relaxed throughout Herbology and Divination (which she had reluctantly enrolled in out of guilt for Professor Trelawny) that Harry had asked her if Professor Malfoy had slipped her some sleeping draught. Luckily, he hadn't caught the wicked grin that flashed across her face at the mention of Lucius' name.  
  
By now, though, her tension had returned as she'd settled back to earth. Hermione could still taste him on her lips, delicious and strong. He'd made her feel so alive when he'd touched her... she let out a small whimper at the thought of it. It had been so amazing.  
  
But it was wrong. It was wrong for a million reasons. Professor and student, married man and single teenager, Slytherin and Gryffindor, pure- blood and muggle-born; these were just among the many reasons why it could never happen again.  
  
Unfortunately, Hermione's fevered brain wasn't thinking much about the responsible course of action, it was reminiscing over thoughts of his soft, white-blond hair, his surprisingly strong arms, and those piercing eyes that reflected all the energy inside both of them. She was thinking about Lucius Malfoy and staring at the ceiling as if her reverberating emotions could escape through her brown eyes and give her the peace she needed to sleep. It wasn't working.  
  
She reached under her pillow, pulled out the wand she always kept close by and pointed it to the water glass by her bed.  
  
"Nocturnae Siestra," she whispered softly, and a blue cloud of sparkles slipped out the end of her wand and hovered over the water glass before silently raining itself into the goblet. She put her wand away and took a large gulp of the cool, clear, now sparkling liquid. After downing half the glass, she leaned her head back against the soft pillow. The last image that flickered in front of her eyes before she fell to sleep was that of Lucius, grinning evilly. She couldn't help but smile as she drifted off.  
  
***  
  
The next morning dragged on as Hermione waited for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry tried to pry her out of her daze, but was then distracted by a group of passing Ravenclaw girls giggling and batting their eyes girlishly at him. She didn't understand the fan club that had formed around him since the start of term. They'd just popped up out of nowhere, fainting in his footsteps and swooning over his garbage. Hermione found it surreal. They were so fake; they only liked him for his popularity and growing social status. None of them felt anything real towards the boy who lived.  
  
Finally, the long-awaited class came and Hermione was there a good 10 minutes before the rest of the group, trying not to run through the door and begin screaming at Professor Malfoy. She wasn't angry at him, she was just confused, and Hermione hated to be confused. She had to understand things. It kept her sane, it kept her normal, and this - this was far from normal.  
  
When she walked in, the classroom was barren. Not a student, a teacher, or even an animal of some kind was to be found. She was, as an understatement, early to class. Dropping her books haphazardly on her desk, Hermione walked slowly up to the front of the room, trying to see if Lucius was there. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to find him, but an eager yearning she couldn't suppress told her she needed to. Not surprisingly, though, he wasn't behind his desk or a bookcase. She turned around to walk back to her chair, disappointed, when she felt a finger run down her arm and she spun around to meet Lucius Malfoy's sharp green eyes.  
  
"Miss Granger," he said arrogantly, as always, "you're early for class."  
  
"Can't wait for another exciting hour of reading from textbooks," Hermione retorted, not realizing that he noticed her looking at his lips with hunger.  
  
They looked into each other's eyes for a brief moment before hearing a noise in the distance; footsteps leading to the classroom, growing steadily louder, threatened their situation.  
  
"Detention after class, Miss Granger," Lucius said loudly, so the people outside could clearly hear, but then softer and out of earshot, "and you can prove just how eager you are about the educational system."  
  
He backed away a step, and Hermione could have sworn that a smile tickled across his face before vanishing, to be replaced with a more natural-looking sneer. She had to replace her own excited grin with a grimace as her two best friends entered the classroom, wearing completely honest scowls. She joined them, sat down, and endured the torturous hour of waiting in near silence.  
  
"He gave you detention at lunch? Stupid git," Ron whispered to Hermione as they researched the mating habits of the Tasmanian Devil and how they were affected by lunar cycles, "I'll bet he's worse than Umbridge was for it."  
  
"Yeah," Hermione replied absently, her eyes glazed over slightly. "Stupid git."  
  
It felt like an eternity, but eventually the class ended. Ron and Harry flashed sympathetic looks at her, making her twinge with guilt for having been so ignorant towards them in recent weeks, and took her things back with them to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Hermione waited until the classroom had been drained of students before she stood up to approach the blond-haired teacher. He was sitting in the enormous black chair behind his desk, pretending to look over papers and parchment. His emerald eyes flashed over her before locking with her own deep brown ones. She could already feel the beginnings of anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach as he surveyed her like a possession, but there was something else there... something that felt frighteningly like lust.  
  
"I have a detention then, Professor?" She asked innocently as Lucius stood up and walked around to her.  
  
"You're a constant distraction from my teaching duties, Miss Granger," he replied with an inviting sneer, grabbing Hermione roughly by the hips and pulling her to him, "and ought to be taught a lesson."  
  
Hermione didn't waste a moment. Her lips moved to his and he kissed her back deeply, running his long fingers down her hips and on to her lower back. She moaned into his mouth as he pressed against her and her tongue wrapped around his. They kissed like this for an incredible moment before Hermione remembered all the pounding questions she had and pulled away. His eyes opened and he stared at her, almost angry that the kiss had ended.  
  
"Why are we doing this?" She asked him, her eyes strong but questioning.  
  
"It's therapeutic," Lucius offered with a smirk, and something clicked in Hermione's head. He was right. It made her feel better. It made her feel incredible. There was no logical reason to fight it, and Hermione Granger was nothing if not a woman of logic.  
  
She pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it to the open door.  
  
"Fermetrus," she said clearly, and the door shut with a snap.  
  
"Works for me," she continued, shoving the wand back into her pocket and pulling him into a kiss once again.  
  
Lucius tried not to smile. It was so unbelievably strange, their situation; the two hated each other fiercely, but found the answers to their own problems in each other's passion. It was really quite selfish of both of them, but neither were inclined to end the relationship, if you could call it that, when it had only just begun. Plus, she was gorgeous, and a surprisingly good kisser. It simply worked.  
  
Hermione found herself being pushed backwards in his passionate kiss until she was pressed against his huge wooden desk, her hands tracing his body, grabbing at any exposed skin. Their lips parted for a moment and they tasted each other's breath as Lucius' hands found the clasp on the front of her robes and they fell off her shoulders, pooling behind her on the enormous table. Beneath them she wore a white t-shirt and black pleated skirt with knee socks and mary-jane buckled shoes. It was almost too delicious for her professor. She kissed him again and undid his own robes, beneath which he was dressed in a black shirt and black pants, not surprising in the least.  
  
Hermione grinned wickedly. So did he.  
  
"Are you sure about this, Miss Granger?" He asked, though in truth not really giving a damn if she was or not.  
  
"Hell yes," she shot back, fire blazing in her eyes.  
  
They radiated heat at each other for a nanosecond before Lucius grabbed Hermione and kissed her deeply, pressing down on her and making her feel sinfully small and feminine. Not to be patronized, though, she pushed up with equal strength. After a luscious minute of this they parted once more, just long enough for Hermione's shirt and bra to be hastily removed, as well as his own shirt. They both stared hungrily at each other's chests for a moment before Hermione moved to his and licked a trail up towards his neck, nibbling him gently when she arrived.  
  
"Ah," Lucius gasped when she bit the flesh on his collarbone, kneading her back with his hands. Her skin was so incredibly hot it burnt his fingers, but he couldn't stop touching her.  
  
"You're a bad influence on our student body," Hermione cackled wickedly beneath him, running her hands over his hard, muscular chest.  
  
"You have no idea what I can do the student body," he replied haughtily as she unfastened his pants and they fell to the floor. His dark green boxers were soft and cottony, which surprised her. They felt smooth against her legs, as she was sitting on the desk now, him standing between her thighs.  
  
"Teach me," she smiled, as her skirt was hastily removed and strewn across his gigantic chair. His tongue flicked across her lips for an instant before he grabbed his wand from beside her on the desk and pointed it at her, performing a levitating spell and removing her panties expertly. She floated back down and landed on the desk.  
  
She was now completely naked and exposed beneath Lucius Malfoy's solid figure, staring down at her cruelly. She felt that hatred boiling inside her again and grabbed her wand, pointing to the drawstring on his boxers.  
  
"Alohamora," she chanted, and the strings came apart instantly, the shorts falling to the floor with a soft thud.  
  
She grabbed him with her hand and stroked him gently, making him moan loudly. He winced at his action. This was a war. The one to come first lost. It was twisted logic, but he figured logic had been locked outside his classroom about five minutes earlier, so he didn't give it a second thought.  
  
He entered her delicately the first time, and she was angered to find a gasp escape her own mouth. She'd touched herself before, but she'd never felt anything like this. It was amazing, hot and sinful and wonderfully different.  
  
The second time he pressed into her was harder, with more urgency. She wrapped her arms around his back and scratched at him with her nails. Their mouths lingered inches from each other as their breath quickened.  
  
"All your lessons should be this interesting," Hermione managed to spit out between breaths as Lucius pushed her into himself and the desk, sandwiching her delightfully. She could not believe how hot this was, how fiery they were. All her hate came out in this. She kissed him with anger. She touched him with fury. She made love to him now with pure rage.  
  
Somewhere during the battle, their wands clattered to the floor, hers emitting a puff of red smoke and his setting off tiny green fireworks. They lost sense of where they were and who they were supposed to be. All they felt was each other, burning with lust and power. When the moment came, Hermione was first, exploding with fire, and Lucius not soon after, pulling her into an impossible closeness that defied physics and magic alike. For a moment afterwards, the brown-haired girl didn't even feel angry or stressed, didn't feel hateful. She just felt complete.  
  
And she knew did as well.  
  
***  
  
"So," Ron asked twenty minutes later as he walked with Harry and Hermione to Care of Magical Creatures, "How painful was detention with Malfoy?"  
  
"Indescribably," Hermione said with a private smirk.  
  
"I don't know how he got to be a teacher," Harry said angrily, "I mean, it's not like he has any skills."  
  
"Well now, I wouldn't say that," she responded quietly, but Harry's confused response was cut off by the arrival of Hagrid at the field they were standing in, booming loudly about the benefits of dragon scales as tea cozies.  
  
She kept to herself that she'd been given detention every day for the next week, and finished the afternoon with a smile.  
  
***  
  
DONE! Whew, that took me a week. Well, I hope you like! And yes, there will be a part three, how could there not be? I'd like to thank my lovely support group named Holly, who convinced me to write half the story at 11:00 at night until 12:50 am and listened to my complaints of tiredness. Thanks! ALSO, thanks to EVERYBODY who reviewed part one! I'm glad you like it and I hope this one's up to snuff. Had to change the rating drastically! Ciao. 


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